Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 48518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Ash Calder has zero Christmas spirit and one huge responsibility—raising his six-year-old niece after his sister’s sudden deployment.
Lucy’s glittery decorations and endless cheer drive him crazy.
Her smile? Even worse.
It makes him feel things he swore he’d never feel again.
Forced together to run the town’s Fire & Frost Festival, their banter sparks, their chemistry burns, and their “accidental” touches start to feel dangerously intentional. By Christmas morning, the only thing melting faster than the snow… is their resistance.
A grumpy firefighter. A sunshiney librarian. One bed, one snowstorm, and one holiday spark turning into a wildfire
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Lucy
Snowflakes hit my face the moment I step out of my tiny hatchback, the kind that melt instantly and run down your skin like cold fingertips. My breath fogs the air as I tug the last box out of the backseat—one labeled CHRISTMAS CRAP in pink glitter marker, because yes, I am absolutely that person.
A new town. A new job. A new chance to not screw things up.
The rental cabin sits halfway up a pine-lined ridge. It’s small, a little crooked, a little drafty, but adorable—like something from a low-budget holiday movie. If I squint, I can almost see a wood-burning stove glowing inside, cookies baking, and a happily-ever-after waiting around the corner.
“Hi!”
The voice snaps my fantasy in half. A little girl stands at the bottom of my porch steps, wearing purple boots and a jacket two sizes too big. Blonde curls peek from beneath a knit hat with a sparkly pom-pom.
She grins so wide I swear I can feel the warmth from here.
“I’m Holly,” she announces.
“Well, hello, Holly.” I tuck the box under one arm. “I’m Lucy. I’m the new librarian.”
Her eyes widen like I just told her I’m Santa Claus. “You’re the book lady!”
I laugh. “I’ll take that.”
She’s already climbing my steps, inspecting every inch of the porch with the intensity of a building inspector. “Are you gonna live here?”
“Yep. This little cabin is mine for the next twelve months.”
“It’s cute,” she decides. “Like a gingerbread house!”
I glow. Someone gets it. “Exactly what I thought.”
A new voice cuts through the snow, low and sharp-edged.
“It’s a potential death trap.”
The hair on my arms stands straight up.
I turn.
And see him.
Good Lord.
A man—huge, hard, broad-shouldered, built like he eats lumber for breakfast—walks up the path with a duffel bag slung over his back. Dark beanie, navy coat, heavy boots crunching through snow. His jaw looks carved, dusted with stubble. His eyes, from this distance, look like storm clouds sizing me up.
This is not a holiday movie hero. This is the man who shows up before the heroine learns about consequences.
Holly beams. “Uncle Ash!”
He nods at her but doesn’t smile. He stops at the bottom of my steps, looking me up and down in one slow sweep that makes my skin prickle.
“You the new tenant?”
Wow. Friendly.
“Yes,” I say. “Lucy.”
He jerks his chin once. “Ash. Cabin next door.”
He doesn’t offer a hand. Doesn’t offer a smile. Doesn’t even offer the bare minimum of human warmth.
“My sister wanted me to check on you,” he continues. “Said someone was moving in today. You should know—watch the chimney. It’s old. Could spark.”
I blink. “Nice to meet you too?”
He doesn’t blink back. “Not trying to be nice. Trying to keep you from burning the place down.”
Holly tugs his sleeve. “Uncle Ash, she likes books!”
He exhales like that information is somehow deeply inconvenient. “Great.”
I straighten, narrowing my eyes. “For the record, I happen to think this cabin is adorable. Cozy. Charming.”
“It’s a fire hazard,” he says flatly.
“Maybe you’re a fire hazard,” I shoot back before my brain can catch up with my mouth.
Holly covers her mouth in a gasp.
Ash’s brows lift—just slightly. “Excuse me?”
I hug my box to my chest. “I said what I said.”
His mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile—or a snarl. Hard to tell with this man. “You’re already planning to put up lights.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
He points to the glitter marker label on the box in my arms.
I look down.
CHRISTMAS CRAP.
…Fair.
“Yes,” I say, lifting my chin. “I enjoy a little festive sparkle.”
He makes a low sound in his throat that might be a laugh if it weren’t so full of disbelief. “Festive sparkle. Right. Well, Sparky—”
“Sparky?”
“You’re going to spark something with those decorations. Probably a fire.”
“I am not sparking anything!”
“Yet.”
I glare. “Is this how you greet all your neighbors? Accusing them of impending arson?”
“Only the ones who show up with seventeen boxes of electrical hazards.”
“It’s fifteen.”
“Comforting.”
Holly giggles from behind him. Traitor.
Ash shifts the duffel on his shoulder and moves up another step. He’s close enough now that I realize just how big he is. Broad chest, thick arms, the kind of shoulders that look designed for carrying heavy things… or picking people up and pinning them against—